they were in gibberish. Even I recognized that. And if I hadn’t, the look on your face would have given you away.”
“There were good times, weren’t there?” Arlo asked, twisting his back to find a comfortable position.
“And bad ones. I just wish we’d had the bad ones at the beginning so when we finally decided to call it quits we’d have had the good ones closest to us. It would have made the memories better, I think.”
He had good memories of her and that was the problem. The memories were too good for a couple that was destined to break up. “And here we are, together again.”
“But not for that reason,” Layla warned. “I really do want to prove myself and working here should earn me some”
“Some what?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Has your cooking gotten any better?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject.
“Actually, my brother Eric—you remember me talking about him, don’t you?”
“The rich one.”
“One and the same. Anyway, he sent me a yakitori grill. And while I’m not good at preparing a meal on it, I do make a mean cup of tea.”
“A yakitori grill? Does that mean you’ve been to Japan?”
“No, my brother lives there. He sent it to me. But I haven’t had time to visit him yet.”
“So, you’ve got a civet cat and a yakitori.” She reached out and squeezed Arlo’s arm—an affectionate gesture from the past that came so naturally.
“That about sums it up.”
“And that makes you a happy man?”
“Along with my practice. You know me. Simple needs.”
“And mine weren’t, were they?”
“Let’s just say that you gravitated more toward the finer things in life. Probably still do, for all I know.”
Layla sighed. “To be honest, I don’t have time for all the finer things in life. Most of my time is spent working.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“Probably because you always knew I was ambitious. I think I probably slammed that in your face a thousand times in those two years, didn’t I?”
He chuckled. “Let’s just say that I was well aware of your preferences and leave it at that.”
“Was I that bad, Arlo?”
“You were never bad, Layla. Neither was I. But as a couplewell, our destinies precluded everything else. Maybe that’s what was bad. That, and those fifty pairs of shoes on the closet floor that left me no room for my two pairs.”
He smiled, thinking about how he’d practically lived out of a suitcase during those two years because her clothes had taken up every inch of hanging space in both bedrooms. But that had been part of her charm. At least, to him it had been, because he’d loved watching her make the decision of what to wear.
It would take hours sometimes, and she’d always asked his opinion. Do you like me in this? Is this one better than the other one? It always made him feel a part of something other than the jungle or his parents’ life. Something he liked, even though it was temporary.
“Never more than forty, Arlo. Unless you count boots.”
He laughed out loud. Couldn’t help himself. Even though they weren’t a couple, something about the old familiarity was sinking back in, making him feel like, well—what he hadn’t felt like since they had been a couple. “Well, no worries about that here, since this hut doesn’t have a closet.”
“To think this is where you expected me to live. And that was back when I only had thirty pairs of shoes.”
“Sixty,” he teased.
“We’ll compromise at twenty,” she said, smiling.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I never expected you to take me up on my offer. But in a few of my more stupid moments, I did hope.”
“Not stupid, Arlo. Hope is never stupid.”
“Except when it came to us.”
Layla smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “So, is a hose for a shower and no closets what you still want? I know you feel an obligation to stay here, but has anything changed?”
“No, not really. Because this is where I’ve always worked from the time I was five or six, just like little Chanchai. It’s everything I knew I wanted, probably because this is the kind of medicine my parents practiced, and I respected what they did. I mean, I was raised in the jungle, Layla. Conceived here, born here. It’s what I know. What I want. Taking care of people who wouldn’t otherwise get medical help—I could have gone in with Ollie after I graduated, but it wouldn’t have made me happy, not the way my practice here does.”
“Then you’re where you belong. Following your heart is always the best way.”
“Have you ever done that, Layla? Followed your heart?”
She shook her head. “That’s not who I am. I follow my choices, but you already knew that.”
“I hope your choices have made you happy so far.”
“They’ve made me what I want to be—successful.”
And somehow Layla seemed almost as vulnerable as she had when they’d first been together. The girl who’d been afraid to approach him. The girl who’d never fully invested herself in life. Was it because of her money? Did she still rely on that the way she had when they’d been together? Trusting that rather than trusting people?
There’d been so many times when she’d found it easier to buy her way into a situation rather than rely on her intellect and amazing abilities to come up with a better way. Was that who she still was? Because that was a part of Layla he’d never understood. So independent, yet so willing to fall back into habits she’d said she wanted to be rid of. Even if they hadn’t been going in separate directions, that’s the thing that would have killed them.
“I suppose I thought that after you’d spent so much time back in the States during medical school, then residency, maybe this wouldn’t have the same appeal you remembered.”
“It has more, now that I’m an adult and can fully appreciate what I have here—like the freedom of doing what I want to do without a lot of interference from anyone. My patients are the best, which makes up for my less than spectacular accommodation. And it’s nice caring for people who are grateful for my services and not ones who make unreasonable demands.”
He laughed. “Remember the surgical patient who wanted me to do both a hernia repair and a nose reduction in the same surgery? The guy actually reported me to Administration because I refused, not that my attending would have allowed such a thing even if I’d wanted to. Which I didn’t. But he made my life miserable for a couple of weeks,
